Grey Eyed Castaway
Lost in the Sauce
Coruscant, Level 1342
Coruscant, Level 1342
Jasper felt hollow inside. Dazed, confused, questioning his own identity, and pretty much every other terrible emotion he could think off. How he had gone into a downward spiral was complicated, as he had been doing increasingly well since coming back to the New Jedi Order. Unfortunately, he still had one looming question on his mind over these past few weeks: Jastile Kai’el, the man who had left him with the New Jedi Order. At first, Jasper assumed the man to be a relative of his, maybe a father or grandfather. Why else would they have the same last name? When he was on Empress Teta, Jastile even contacted him via Telepathy, offering to meet him on Dantooine in the flesh. Jasper still had yet to take up the offer. Instead, he chose to discover more on his own terms.
He had gone through the Jedi archives again, looking for logged DNA samples. When that failed, Jasper went through the GA, looking to see if anyone had logged genetic information that might match his. Unfortunately, he found his answer. Apparently, Jastile had dabbled in the world of science, registering his own DNA for research use. It didn’t take much longer for the dots to connect in his head, but to be sure he tracked down an apartment Jastile had owned on Coruscant. He was hoping to break in and find a DNA sample to compare with his own somewhere. Instead, he found a biometric lock. It opened for Jasper without failure.
So there he was, beneath the Jedi and the Senate, sitting in the back corner of a local diner with an extra large pizza. If he was going to have an identity crisis, he at least needed to be able to stress eat. Was Jasper even himself, or was he really just a carbon copy of this Jastile guy? Was he acting because of what he wanted, or were his emotions and behaviors predetermined by the genetic information of this old Jedi master? What if it was all synthetic? His care for his friends… his desire to help people… his social anxiety… Was any of it real?
The tattoo on his arm finally had an explanation at least. It was probably a signature of some kind, a mark tying him back to the man who created him. Jasper didn’t like that it had an answer now. He preferred it when he didn’t understand where the tattoo came from. He sunk his teeth into the first slice of pizza, cheese melting off in strings as he tore apart the slice. Jasper set the pizza slice down in the box, laying his head down on the table.
He hadn’t exactly established himself as a socially confident individual, but at least he hadn’t been an emotional wreck. Now Jasper had nothing to pride himself in. At least he was alone.